


Keeping Warm in the Wintertime

by Anonymous



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Maxwell being Williams stagename, Smut, Trans Male Character, hhh both are trans and gay, little bit of magical transformation for a lad, maxwil - Freeform, which- leads to some fun times ;3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: With the nights growing ever-colder, Wilson and Maxwell as "forced" to share a tent together... things quickly take a turn that neither of them would've ever dreamed of.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve), William Carter/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Kudos: 42
Collections: Anonymous





	Keeping Warm in the Wintertime

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be added as new chapters are added.

The fire crackled merrily, hot and bright against the frigid, snow-choked darkness surrounding camp. The scent of cooked food and slight stench of unwashed beefalo were their own sorts of comfort- they wouldn't go hungry or freeze to death tonight.

Wilson kept stirred the crockpot almost lazily, stealing a glance at Maxwell, then another. The tall, lanky man was fussing over the wool and silk, trying to make it into cloth over by the alchemy engine, and grumbling under his breath all the while. He let his gaze wander, from Maxwell's fine hair and sharp cheekbones, over his chest, his waist, lower to his ass and long legs. 

The scientist's face warmed and he refocused on the half-formed cloth in his hands. He'd been hiding his crush for the other man for awhile now. It had started with a voice on the radio, who-knows-how-long ago now. Actually _meeting_ Maxwell had been- a mix of feelings. Betrayed, certainly, for having been tricked here- but also in some amount of awe of the tall, handsome not-quite-stranger.

Fighting his way through five increasingly terrible worlds, and seeing Maxwell deteriorate more and more- hurt his heart. And his heart had ached worse when he found the man entrapped on the throne. There was... almost nothing of the "cruel" overlord of the Constant... just a worn out man, human, and twisted into a puppet. He hadn't known that freeing Maxwell would trap him in his place- but he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Despite a very (very) rocky start when they ran into one another again, they'd mostly grown beyond petty arguments over chores and work, and were now friends. Or at least friendly with one another. They still had their spats, now and again, but beneath Maxwell's pride, Wilson saw glimpses of a far softer, far more awkward man beneath it all.

One of their biggest fights had been over rabbits- after Wilson had realized how fragile the throne had left Maxwell, he'd suggested the man instead help by setting traps and skinning the caught rabbits. The man had blown up over the simple suggestion, and Wilson admittedly hadn't helped the situation, already exhausted from a bad run-in with beefalo and having to patch up both his own wounds and Maxwells. Later learning that Max used to keep rabbits as pets, and still had a major soft spot for the fluffballs, had made Wilson feel pretty shitty for blowing up at the other over it.

...it would've helped if Maxwell had simply explained from the start, but Wilson had noticed that Maxwell typically hid any sort of weakness or unfamiliarity behind a facade of _'I know what I'm doing'_ instead of just- explaining the issue or asking for help. It had taken a long time, but after sitting Maxwell down and explaining that the man didn't have to hide anything from him, that Wilson would help, and that asking for help _wasn't_ a weakness, the man had slowly began coming to Wilson with questions. Tenatively, and guardedly, and... he always seemed surprised when Wilson actually helped him, instead of, of, blowing him off.

It had been slow going, but... Wilson was willing to call Maxwell his friend. He didn't want to ruin things by bringing up his crush, so- best to ignore it until it went away. Some distant part of him argued, the stupid, pining part of him, saying that problems couldn't be ignored until they went away. 

* * *

The nights were so bitterly cold now that it had become a necessity to share a tent, pitched as close to the firepit as possible without risking setting it ablaze. It also necessitated them sharing said tent, as well as the blankets... and body heat. Wilson had expected a fight about this, but Maxwell had been shockingly agreeable about the whole thing when he'd brought it up earlier that evening. Some grumbling here or there, and that was it.

Wilson crawled in first, and started pulling the blankets about so they could both tuck in for the night. He heard Maxwell shuffle in, felt the prickle of eyes on the back of his head, and glanced over his shoulder. He met Maxwell's gaze, raising a brow inquisitively; the man scoffed and looked away. Wilson frowned softly, "What, having second thoughts?"

Maxwell said nothing for a moment, then shook his head. "No." he said simply, flustered. 

"Never shared a bed with anyone?" Wilson couldn't help but tease.

Maxwell glared at him, cheeks turning rosy-red. "Shut up." 

_Oh_. That was cute. Wilson turned away, coughing and covering his mouth to hide it, trying to fight off a flush. Without a word more, he laid down and tugged the blankets up over himself.

There was a sort of hesitation thick in the air, and then he felt the blankets shift, and then a thin, warm back was pressed to his. 

"Goodnight, Maxwell." 

A pause, and then, "Goodnight, Higgsbury." came the quiet reply. 


End file.
